THE WRITINGS OF BURKE.

(_For the Mirror._)

Of all the great men of his age, there were few who attained to the

celebrity of Edmund Burke; there were many, however, who deserved it

more and whom a more adverse fortune compelled to languish in

comparative obscurity. That Burke was a man of wonderful talent it would

be in vain to deny, and indeed such denial would be only a proof of our

own ignorance and bad taste; but his strength was that of imagination

merely,--his genius was not sufficiently counterbalanced by judgment,

and he has been at all times ranked as an elegant rather than a nervous

writer. In his oratory, as well us his literary composition, he was too

much addicted to a florid phraseology, and his hearers, during his

lifetime, as well as his readers now, were often driven to consider his

meaning, and not unfrequently to make one out for themselves. This style

of declamation has been not unaptly called "splendid nonsense," and it

was after a display of this sort from Burke, that one of his audience

made this pithy exclamation: "It is all very well, but I should like to

hear it over again, that I might consider the _sense_." Burke also dealt

in paradoxes occasionally; in short, he will seldom satisfy a careful

reader, and his most ardent admirers have been known to confess

themselves rather pleased than edified by his works. By way of specimen,

as to the remarks we have ventured to make, we shall endeavour to take

to pieces the following sophism, for a sophism we cannot help

considering it:--

"Duties are not voluntary; duty and will are even contradictory

terms."--"Men have an extreme disrelish to be told of their duty; this

is, of course, because every duty is a limitation of power."

These two sentences are taken from different parts of the writings of

Burke, but they are the same in tendency, though not in expression; they

imply simply, that duty is a restraint, and that our duties and our

inclinations call us different roads. Let us first consider what the

term "duty" signifies. From Johnson we get this explanation of it: "What

we are bound to do by the impulse of nature, the dictates of law, or the

voice of reason." Now, to take these three cases as they stand, nature

has surely ordained everything for our advantage, and therefore in

obeying her, we have rather an accession than a diminution of power;

with respect to ourselves, the calls of nature are even agreeable to us;

and as far as our duties concern others, men seem in general to perform

their natural duties willingly, such as a duty to a child, a parent, &c.

Then with regard to the duties imposed on us by law, many of these

appear indeed at first to be great and unnecessary restraints, but if we

examine the matter, we shall find that very few laws have been framed

that have not rather good than evil for their object. Society doubtless

imposes many restrictions on its members, but it also confers far

greater comparative advantages in lieu of them, so that if we were

fairly to weigh the benefits received, against the losses sustained, we

should find law to be a blessing, without which we could not exist in

any real comfort; and we should see clearly then it gives power and

elevates, rather than shackles or debases us. As to these legal duties

being voluntary with all men, every day proves that they are not; but

with all reasonable persons they must be, for we ought surely to perform

that willingly, which is not only intended, but actually is, for our

good. It is the perverse nature of man, that looks on the dark side of

things, and forgetting the ultimate advantage to be derived, considers

only the partial and trivial annoyances that necessarily attend its

completion. The duties dictated by reason are the only duties that

remain: it is difficult to separate these entirely from natural duties;

perhaps I may be allowed to call "Prayer" or "Thanksgiving to God" a

reasonable duty, (for it is not a natural one, or the brutes would

practise it in common with ourselves.) Now this is a duty, that if it is

performed at all, is performed voluntarily, for it is clearly in a man's

own choice to do it or not, there being no compulsory power to enforce

prayer; as to this duty being a limitation of power, its observance does

indeed imply a state of dependence, and is an indirect admission that we

are creatures at the disposal of another; but that is not exactly the

point; it is no limitation of power in this sense; it takes away no

power we were before possessed of.

The Mirror of Literature, Amusement, and Instruction. Volume 19, No. 550, June 2, 1832 · 第 12 / 27 题